


If You Were To Leave

by Mindswander



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Minor Violence, Pre-Slash, pre-thor/steve, some description of blood and injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mindswander/pseuds/Mindswander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Natasha's pain they hear through the com system, but perhaps they should have been listening more carefully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thor can hear Natasha’s string of curse words through the com system as he surveys the area around him.

He had been dragged off a ways away from the others to ensure that no rogue bots had escaped though the main bot had been destroyed and no longer was sending out orders. However, they were unsure of what the remaining ones would do without direction so Thor had followed the last stronghold about a block and a half from the center of the action.

Eyeing the sea of bot bodies one last time, Thor makes his way back to his teammates. He wishes to make sure that Natasha is alright as the Captain has called in the medvac to check up on her.

The Asgardian’s face wrinkles in disdain as he approaches and goes to pass one of the decommissioned bots. They’re gun metal in color with one arm possessing a series of crude imitations of talons but nonetheless razor sharp while the other is formed like a giant claw with sharp blades, similar to scissors, in between each grasping piece. They’re large, strong, vicious, but remarkably quiet.

As Thor passes the bot he reacts as split second too late as the supposedly destroyed object pops to life and uses its claw to clamp onto the left side of Thor’s chest. The searing pain is immediate and radiates throughout his body, but he only grunts as he wields Mjolnir and bludgeons the foul object into ruin. The claw loosens and drops Thor to the pavement as it falls back and away from him.

Mjolnir still in hand, he stifles a hiss of pain as the front part of his armor comes apart and falls off with a clatter. The pain is sharp and intense, but Thor uses the alertness it brings to assess his injury. It is not spurting blood so it has not hit major arteries, but it is nonetheless deep and bleeding quite profusely. Using the bit of magic he knows, though he has never been overly fond of it, a strip of cloth winks into existence, slithers across his skin and binds itself around Thor’s midsection to help staunch the flow. The action makes Thor clench his fists, but he deems the situation handled and using a spark from Mjolnir, he reattaches the front part of his armor to the other so his teammates will not worry. Natasha is much more fragile than he and the focus needs to be on her.

Extracting himself from the ground nearly makes Thor reconsider this thought, but he pushes through and goes to the others. When he arrives he sees them standing over Natasha amidst the wreckage and approaches slowly.

The Hulk notices him first and sneers at Thor. The Asgardian half smiles back while silently hoping this is not one of the days the Hulk is feeling playful as he has been wont to do on many occasions.

“There you are Vidal Sassoon. We were starting to wonder if they ran off with you,” Tony quips after noticing Thor’s presence too.

Thor stops himself from chuckling in order to not disturb his wound more than necessary, but the lack of response must strike the Captain as strange because he shifts his gaze to the god and eyes him critically. Thor smiles back at him in a way that he hopes it does not show his pain. “I am still very much here, but how are you fairing Lady Natasha?”

“Fucking brilliant,” Natasha says through her teeth. “They’re scratches, barely there really, but the Captain insists the medvac come for me.” Natasha turns her steely gaze onto Steve. “Your concern is more painful.”

“It is just a precaution,” he replies simply. Her mouth twitches, but she says nothing else.

As they wait the last few minutes for the medvac to arrive, the helicopter sounds close now, Thor’s head begins to feel light and his thoughts scattered. He cants his head to the side a few times and focuses on Mjolnir’s power humming through him in an attempt to bring things back into focus.

It’s not working. There’s a short gap in Thor’s vision and then the whole scene appears distant to his body as the medics takes a cursory examination of Natasha, deems her okay, and they all file into the helicopter with a now very naked Bruce.

During their trip Natasha keeps slapping the medic’s hands away as he goes to attend to her wounds further while she insists she will take care of it after the debriefing with Fury at the tower. Rebuffed for a final time, the medic gives up and a hush descends upon them. Thor is quite thankful, not for the first time, that conversation is often minimal after battles and he does not have to engage with anyone. It seems too difficult a task.

Upon arrival to the tower, the group tiredly trudges down to the conference room to go over the events of the day. Unlike the others however, it’s not just exhaustion and it takes Thor a considerably higher amount of effort to just follow them and simultaneously appear completely normal as Steve begins to run through their response to the threat.

Time drags on and Thor can barely concentrate. The metallic tang is strong in his mouth and swallowing the bitter substance makes his stomach roll with the burning ache in his side, but he says nothing about it.

Action...movement...focus. Thor's eyes attempt to roll in his head.

 _Focus_.

With this thought he sets his hammer upon the table, but Thor is immediately aware of the egregious error he has made when he lets go of his weapons handle. Without Mjolnir’s force directly coursing through him he’s weak, so incredibly weak he is surprised he is still standing without it. Leaning against the conference table heavily now, Thor only just has the mind to stick his hand into the slight gap in his armor. When he pulls it back out it’s slick with blood and he absently slides his hand across the table to brace himself as the world goes fuzzy and dark at the edges.

“I—,” he manages before the darkness closes in and he collapses knocking one of the rolling chairs aside as he falls to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has turned into a three chapter thing. Whoops.

In the half second the others are immobile with confusion, Natasha springs into action, sliding herself up and over the table in one swift movement though her wounds protest loudly.

Dropping to her knees at his side, she unclips his breast plate the way she's seen him do it so many times before and throws it out of the way. Armor removed, she can see the piece of material wrapped around his middle is soaked in his blood, but she can't see the wound and cuts it away with a flick of the wrist with the knife from her hidden belt pocket. Bile rises in her throat as she finally sees the damage Thor has sustained; she can see the bone, torn muscle…an organ? It is one thing entirely to see such grievous injuries on those she doesn't know and another to see them on…

She applies pressure to the wound which is only slowly leaking blood now and growls, "Help me damnit!" Blood completely coats her hands as she accidentally moves and one of her fingers slips into the torn flesh. She shutters lightly at the sensation, but soon Steve is next to her applying pressure of his own before utter chaos breaks out.

Behind them Bruce only has a moment to realize he's about to hulk out before it's upon him.

"Shit!" Tony yells. He's not afraid of the Hulk, but what is the point of this now? "Now, big guy—"

The Hulk roars in his face but Tony holds his ground before the other crosses the room and paces. He smashes a window and roars again.

Natasha and Steve are watching the Hulk closely but still flicker their eyes to Fury who is screaming into his phone for that helicopter to "come back right the fuck now. We don't have time!"

The Hulk is pacing and smashing, Fury is growling into his phone in a rage, and Clint and Tony are rooted to their spots on the floor waiting.

Natasha worries at how thready and fast Thor's pulse is under her fingertips.

To her left Steve is sweating and his pulse pounds visibly in the vein standing out on his neck. "Hecan'tdiehecan'tdiehecan'tdiehecan'tdie…" His quiet muttering focuses Natasha back onto the body before her until a medic is on her right and urging her out of the way. She has to grab Steve's shoulders to bring him back and force him to move away too.

They all look on helplessly, even the Hulk, as they medics assess Thor and rush to prepare him to leave.

As soon as Thor is on a stretcher and heading to the medvac Steve is moving to follow but the director blocks his way. "No, Captain, you stay here."

"Sir, you don't understand. I—"

"I am  _ordering_  you to stay here," Fury commands with as much authority in his voice that he can muster. Natasha doesn't miss the quick flicker of gratitude in Steve's eyes before he dashes to follow the medics. Steve is a soldier and though he has a habit of disobeying, for once he finds it in him to listen. It's truly the only thing that's keeping him from tearing a path to cling to Thor's side she's sure.

A strange silence descends on them in the wake of Thor's departure and Natasha shifts not without slight difficulty.Where she was able to ignore it before, the harsh stinging in her legs is apparent once again as she glances at the blood on her hands, turning crusty and brown at the edges. She frowns hard at the sight before Steve whirls toward them, posture rigid and eyes bright with conflicting emotion.

"What happened?" he demands in a tone she's never heard from him before. It's meant to sound like rage she suspects, but to her it conveys barely concealed panic and she cocks her head to the side. It's peculiar seeing him like this as he has proven, much to her surprise in the past, to hold his emotions relatively close to the cuff.

To her left she sees Tony open his mouth to reply and Natasha can just imagine the retort about to come whizzing out like a shot. Tony's tongue is still sharp in stressful scenarios and the tension is clear on him with the tilt of his head and the squint of his eyes. Natasha wants to deflect, but Clint beats her to it.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Clint answers simply. This seems to derail whatever Tony has to say, but Steve looks thoroughly unimpressed with the answer, although she knows he's heaping all the blame onto his shoulders alone.

"I should have—"

"You couldn't have," interrupts Bruce in a voice laced with exhaustion. The Hulk had melted away the second Thor left the room leaving a tired Banner in his wake. "Thor has a stubborn streak a mile wide sometimes." A smile flickers across his lips and Natasha can feel hers responding in kind. Yes, he sure is. She distinctly remembers one time he was trying to put together one of Tony's robots after he had disassembled it much to Tony's chagrin (she still doesn't know quite why), but with every offer of help from either Bruce or Tony he would wave them away with a grumble and a muttered curse in Asgardian until they gave up. Two days later he brought it back, fully intact with a few modifications, improvements if they were being honest, and Tony had only scowled and said thanks before he disappeared.

She wonders idly what memory is crossing Bruce's mind as she smiles to herself.

Her smile quickly fades.

"I'm going to clean up now," she says finally, giving them all one more cursory glance. She doesn't like the feel of her teammate's blood on her hands.

When no one answers she shrugs and leaves the room.

There isn't anything to do now besides wait.

* * *

A day and a half later of Fury running interference so the Avengers would leave Thor to heal properly without disturbance they are allowed to see him.

As they file in Clint twitches at the sight of Thor looking so vulnerable in the hospital bed; enormous, but entirely vulnerable when he offers no reaction to their arrival.

"Now," his doctor says. Her voice demands attention though she is petite and has a kind face framed by wavy auburn hair. "Thor is well on his way to being completely healed. From our estimates, based on the rate he has displayed, he may even be scar free in two or three days. He is really quite remarkable." Her voice has a trace of awe Clint doesn't like. Awe and interest in his life has often led down a bad road. "Nevertheless, he has yet to regain consciousness. You may talk to him though. His brain activity is very high and though he may not remember, he will most likely hear you. You are as close as he has to family here I'm told." She looks to each of them and Clint shuffles under her scrutiny. His little slice of comfort they have so painstakingly formed was nearly completely altered and she's casually throwing around ideas of his recovery and the word family as if it's the most simple thing in the world. "Unless you have any questions…" her voice trails off, but Steve merely says thank you ma'am before she takes it as her cue to depart.

They all edge closer to Thor's slumbering form now that she's left and watch him silently.

Tony is the first to speak. "He looks just like sleeping beauty. Maybe you should kiss him Steve." The gasp and huff of air Clint hears lets him know that Natasha has elbowed him into silence. Steve for his part, Clint notices, doesn't rise to the bait, but instead is completely flushed and pulling on the hem of his red t-shirt.

"Hello Thor," Steve says softly. He sounds unsure of himself, but continues. "That was sure some stunt you pulled by not telling us you were injured."

"Yeah," Clint chimes in. "The Hulk wasn't very impressed either and you know we shouldn't be pissing him off if we can help it." Bruce chuckles beside him, but Clint knows he's right. Bruce has outright said he's felt the Hulk's confusion, worry, and irritation at the back of his brain. Tony had given him a curious look when he had said so and maybe had poked him with a few sharp things, but other than that, it was simply accepted as fact.

"If you could wake up right now that would be great. I have things for you to answer, one being where has RNT56 gone? I feel like you might know the answer to that question," Tony quips and pokes Thor's foot, but there is no response. Tony shrugs. "I really want to know though."

Natasha laughs lightly before leaning over Thor, practically draping herself over him without touching somehow and takes a few strands of his hair between her fingers. "When you wake up," she says lowly. Clint sees the others lean in slightly to hear the rest. "…I'm going to kill you," she finishes and there's a smile in her voice as she gives his hair a sharp tug. Clint immediately scoffs and starts laughing with Bruce and Tony quickly following suit.

"Natasha!" Steve exclaims. His cheeks are mildly red and he looks bewildered by her actions and his teammates' laughter. Natasha shoots him one of her grins, the one only reserved for them, and Steve's mouth twists and scrunches before he tilts his head up toward the ceiling and half smiles.

"There you go. Wouldn't want your star spangled cat suit to get in a twist," Tony comments. Steve just shakes his head and looks back down at Thor's sleeping face.

Clint's sure if Thor was awake he'd appreciate the joke.

* * *

Two more days pass.

Three.

Thor is completely healed, but still hasn't woken up.

* * *

Steve has been exercising almost nonstop since Thor's injury and even now his muscles have that subtle burning ache as he makes his way down the corridor to Thor's room in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s sick bay. Thor has this whole section more or less to himself and despite the staff's annoyance, the Avengers have been given around the clock clearance to visit their friend which is how, well after midnight, Steve is coming to see him now.

To Steve's chagrin he has been plagued by nightmares of his friends dying in increasingly creative, absurd, and incredibly violent ways when he has fallen asleep in the tower on the couch, in Tony's lab, in his bed, and at the dinner table during the first six days. It was unpleasant, bordering on rude in some situations, so instead he's picked up a routine. He works out almost to the point of collapse before dragging himself to Thor's side. If he does sleep here (which he does most nights), his mind is gratefully blank or feels a lingering contentment when he wakes at sunrise and excuses himself.

As Steve approaches Thor in the bed, he is as perfectly still and in the same position as when he first saw him; his breathing is slow and even, lulling Steve into a bodily calm though his mind won't stop racing from where he sits in a chair beside him.

He couldn't save Bucky, who was just out of reach before he fell. Seventy six years between then and now, though he's only been awake for six, and still sometimes his guilt is hard to swallow.

He just…he can't always comprehend it. He had been given his abilities as Captain America for a reason and yet he didn't manage to save the one person who meant the most to him in this world in more ways than anyone could understand. That moment in time defies logic, especially in the dark of the night with none of the brightness of his teammates, his family, to distract him.

And yet, Steve chuckles bitterly as he scrubs a hand over his face, here he is again. Thor he can touch, he is alive, so alive underneath his fingertips, but is every bit as unreachable as Bucky had been all those years ago.

He doesn't think he can do it again; to lose someone etched on his heart as surely as the serum runs through his veins. It will ruin him.

And what will it do to his team on top of that? They all need each other in ways they don't dare admit, but Steve can see it, can feel it in the strength of the unseen bond that runs between them. There are dynamics at play Steve doesn't understand, but doesn't question and it is without a doubt that they need Thor. They truly do.

Steve is selfish, he thinks, but he needs him more.

These two weeks have slowly been driving him mad.

* * *

"Odinsleep," Tony says one night after a particularly annoying battle with robotic flying monkeys.

"Odinsleep?" Clint repeats with a question in his voice.

"Yeah. I was reading up on Norse mythology…Don't give me that face. That's the best we've got right now," Tony growls as Natasha fixes him with a dubious look.

"It's called  _Odin_ sleep, Tony."

"I'm aware Natasha," he says with a hiss, "but he is Odin's son so who says—"

"But—"

"Can you just hear me out?" Tony grumbles and Bruce watches as Natasha smiles behind her hand. Sometimes he knows she just loves riling him up.

"I don't entirely understand it, not a word Natasha, don't even blink, but I gather that Odin has to recharge his batteries at some point, especially after fierce battles. Maybe the same thing has happened to Thor."

"Sounds like you have a great grasp on the subject," Clint muses while pushing his sausage across his plate. Tony scowls at him in return.

Bruce sighs, feeling Steve mirror his action at his side. "How long will this last?" Steve questions finally.

"I don't know. He could wake up tomorrow, now, or not in our lifetimes. Who am I to say?" Tony answers truthfully and Bruce can tell it bothers Tony much more than his tone let's on.

Steve inhales sharply next to him.

"Great," Natasha mumbles and gulps down the contents in her wine glass.

Bruce presses on the vein throbbing in his forehead and suddenly these last three and a half weeks are that much more terrifying.

* * *

Clint always visits at high noon when the nurses are changing shifts and he can come and go without interruption (he leaves nights for Natasha. He knows without talking to her that that's when she visits though he's still sure she would never admit such sentimentality).

Perched on a chair beside the bed, he tells Thor about the events he's missed in the tower and Tony's continued ranting and raving about his missing bot. He tells him how Steve spends most of his time in the gym, how Natasha reads her books, but really isn't concentrating. He tells him how even the Hulk had to have his own sort of therapy that involved a heavily watched destructive play in the woods far away from everyone just so Banner could rest easier.

His knuckles are white where he grips the chair, but he tells him how he lost a brother once and really doesn't want to do it again.

"You're really an asshole sometimes," Clint whispers and gives Thor's arm a firm squeeze.

He slips out of the room before anyone even realizes he was there.

* * *

Natasha wanders toward her destination so quietly that the evening nurse on duty a corridor away doesn't even register her passing. It's her habit to come here every night, but she supposes the others, besides Clint, must be confused as to when she visits because she finds that the others look at her quizzically sometimes, but they don't push and she doesn't tell. It doesn't matter to her what they think on this occasion anyway, it only matters that she goes.

As she passes more empty rooms, Natasha finds herself wondering once again as she does sometimes when her eyes are lazily skimming a book, but not really comprehending the words before her, if her relationship with Thor is as baffling as she imagines it must seem to her teammates and S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel that are inclined to rumors. She'll admit, and has the one time Tony prompted when he was hammered, that she let Thor in faster than everyone else she was getting to know. Not perfectly of course, she doubts that will ever happen, even with Clint who knows more than she'd like, but certainly faster than she had anticipated.

It was his honesty, she thinks, that made it so easy. He was not always thrilled about answering what she questioned him on (anything to keep it about him), but he'd answer anyway. He told her about his childhood, about his banishment, about just about everything Natasha could think of and more. Sure, he's not perfect. He's stubborn and sometimes, even now, he acts without thinking, but he was forthcoming and he trusted her. It wasn't until she found herself in the midst of telling him a bit about her past with veiled twisted words that she stopped, blinked hard, and wondered when the hell he'd manage to trick her into trusting him some too. At her halted words he had merely smiled and nudged for her to continue. To her surprise she did.

It only got worse from there. The others started to worm their way in too and Natasha's skin was starting to itch from the uncomfortable comfort she was starting to feel around them. This was the sort of sentimentality she knew was dangerous and she was slowly trying to pull away but then…

Acid.

Of course that crazed man had to make robots that shot acid. Along with the acid, the scheme seemed to be divide and conquer, and despite their best efforts, they had all managed to be separated in a bid to protect themselves from the substance. It wouldn't bode well for any of them to be hit and that's how she found herself alone in a building slowly being corned by one of the things until she finally didn't manage to get out of the way in time.

The acid landed on her right side and immediately began to eat away at her suit as she fired off three shots effectively disabling the bot permanently, but the damage was already done. The acid was at her skin now and a burning pain flared in her side that made her hiss as she ripped her com unit out of her ear and threw it to the floor before stomping on it for good measure. The acid was through the top layer of skin, burning away and through her. Natasha was in agony but she didn't want them to hear it. She didn't want them to hear her die and maybe get themselves killed in the process. She was human. She was expendable. Someone help her.

She doubled over and groaned through another bright burst of pain as the substance ate away at her muscle. She didn't dare touch it to stave off the pain. She wouldn't ruin her hands, she wouldn't, but then hands were on her and Natasha almost screamed as the action jarred her.

"Sorry my friend," Thor whispered to her and she clung to his arm, fingers digging into the armor. She noticed, of all stupid things really, that his com device wasn't in his ear either.

Leaning her more fully into him, he had brought his hand to cover the wound without touching it and started to murmur in a foreign tongue until his hand shown with a faint blue light. When he stopped Natasha didn't know what to expect, but the pain in her side came back with a vengeance and she sagged into his body where before it had been rigid with surprise. She was in pain, but it wasn't spreading.

She let her head fall against his chest. "Thank you."

Ripping his cape from his armor he had wrapped it around her before guiding her to fully stand and leading her back out into the rubble of the street.

She was grateful he saved her and was even more so that he didn't call her on her lie. All of this mad scientist's robots had claws and she had insisted it was a claw wound to her side. Thor was simply overexcited. Thor had nodded with a smirk and asked whether or not the Hulk had sustained any damage from the battle.

That was the final nail in the coffin she thinks, looking back on it now. It has been five and half years of working together and she's close to him, close to them all. She's as close she can be and she doesn't want to lose it now. The vehemence with which she had told Clint so jarred her, but she knows she meant it so she's here again and strangely comforted by the familiarity.

Just as it was the night before and the nights before that, Steve is lightly dozing in the chair next to Thor's bed, keeping up his vigil as she watches over them both from the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all didn't find that too boring. I was on a roll delving into each of them and really couldn't stop, but I promise the next chapter will wrap everything up as much as I can before this turns into a 90 chapter story. 
> 
> Also I'm fully aware I'm not being true to how Odinsleep actually works (in the comics especially though the movie isn't clear at all), but I wanted to use it anyway so forgive me for that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed only supposed to be one chapter and then it was two chapters. Next thing you know it was 3 and now it's four. Luckily, I only have to type up the fourth part. Sorry for disappearing on this story for months. I'm a bad writer.
> 
> Also I don't have a beta so forgive any mistakes I make. I try to catch them all.

Bruce is making sandwiches and soup. It’s nothing fancy, even he doesn’t have the energy for that right now, but it’ll be one less thing for the others to do when they wake up.

Taking a moment from chopping tomatoes, Bruce inhales deeply and turns around to survey his team. Just as he was expecting, they’re all asleep in different parts of the room. Poor Tony even fell sleep sitting up so Bruce trudges over to gently tip him until he’s lying flat before covering him with a blanket. It’s nice in theory to see the avengers on the same page, but Bruce can’t resist the scowl that crosses his face as he curses that wayward S.H.I.E.L.D agent for the umpteenth time.

He still can’t believe that man was stupid enough to take money for giving up information on Thor being in a coma. The only thing that let’s Bruce take even a slight grim satisfaction out of the situation is that the combined rage of Agent Hill and Director Fury was enough to make the entirety of the organization cower in their presence for days. It’s a dark humor that allows him to enjoy this fact, but truly, if it wasn’t for the agent all of the villains of the world wouldn’t be gunning for their heads.

At first, after the initial announcement was made, things had stayed quiet for two days, and they had hoped, however little hope it was, that things would stay calm. Then the third day hit and everyone exploded from the woodwork. Since then it has been mission after mission all over the world and they can’t keep going at this pace. Already today alone they have had two different calls, one in LA and one in England, and in just the short twenty minutes of waiting for the director to arrive for their debrief, the others had fallen sleep. Not even Steve, with all his super soldier stamina, can keep doing this sort of schedule every day. They all know it’s just a matter of time before one of them makes a fatal mistake and that knowledge coupled with their exhaustion is driving them to snap at each other. Only Bruce, in his task to try to fill the hole Thor has left between them, is keeping calm because in the moments he tries the hardest to compensate for Thor’s absence, the others seems to settle down, whether from sadness or from the sheer force of Bruce’s will, he doesn’t know, he’s  just happy that they do.  It’s not healthy, what he’s doing, but it’s how he’s coping and he dares someone to call him on it.

Upon the completion of his 15th sandwich, Bruce thinks he’s finally made enough and he heads down to the conference room where Fury has been waiting for the past five minutes according to Jarvis.  It’s a testament to the week they’ve had that the director doesn’t even look mildly surprised to find only Bruce has shown up.

“They’re all asleep?” And though it’s posed as a question Bruce knows he’s aware of where the others are, but Bruce humors him anyway.

“Yeah,” he replies quietly.

When the director sighs he sounds as worn out as the rest of them look; for as unsavory as the avengers find Fury sometimes, no one can claim he isn’t with them in this 100%.

With a crack of his neck Fury rises from his chair. “Let’s go Banner,” he says. It’s not the first time Fury has foregone the debrief altogether this month and let Bruce accompany him to the bunker. Bruce is glad as he is much too awake and restless to sleep as the others are. Not to mention with all the calls, the avengers have been short on time to truly visit Thor.

The helicopter ride is relatively relaxing and it’s not too long before they arrive. After passing through security, Bruce walks the hallways he’s become so familiar with and calls the image of Thor’s room to his mind. Right now it’s is full of extra beds because, at this point, when anyone does visit the staff has caught on to them passing out in the chairs from exhaustion. But in the center of those beds is Thor’s still form, even breath flowing in and out of his body, completely unchanging as it has been and for all he can fathom, will continue to be. Bruce shakes his head to banish the haunting thought before trialing down the final hallway to arrive at his destination.

As he enters the room Bruce says “Hello Thor,” as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, but when he looks up from his shoes Banner freezes in his tracks.

* * *

 

Tony mumbles incoherently as unpleasant dreams plague him again. Distantly, over the din of the explosions in his mind, he hears Jarvis calling for him, telling him to wake up and Tony groans.

“Shut up, Jarvis, I’m sleeping.”

“Sir, I need you to wake up. This cannot wait.” While Jarvis is programmed to be calm no matter the situation, Tony did leave a code for him to display urgency and the fact that he’s using it now makes Tony crack an eye open. Coming to relative awareness, he hears the others shift, sleep partially interrupted by the AI’s voice.

“I have Dr.Banner on the phone for you sir. Thor is gone,” Jarvis states serenely as if this isn’t a revelation as Tony sits up so fast he makes himself dizzy. “Excuse me?” Tony’s mind won’t stop racing; the where and how and who’s to blame running wild in his head. “Put Bruce through.”

Bruce doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I left you guys to visit but when I got here he was gone.” Just behind the firm but anxious sound of Bruce’s voice there is rustling and banging, sounds of activity that Tony is glad to hear. “They already viewed the footage of the past few hours. He was simply there one moment and then gone the next, like he simply poofed out of existence. Even the tech SHIELD has isn’t pulling up any sign of a lingering energy signature. He’s just…gone.”

Tony tries to resist the urge but the news makes him slide his eyes to Steve. The man who is normally so composed has been a mess with this whole Thor saga for reasons he may not yet understand but that everyone else does.  It pains him to see this development has made it even worse. The Captain, though wide awake, is still curled up in a chair, startlingly pale, and perhaps he looks like he might pass out but his voice is deceptively strong when he speaks. “We’ll be down soon.”

“No! No, just stay. It’s already a zoo here.” The note of pleading in his voice is hard to miss and so Steve doesn’t respond. He almost seems to curl into himself while clutching violently at the pillow in his hands.

Clint and Natasha, who have listened to this exchange without comment, remain lying down waiting for their cue.

“Is there anything I can do Bruce?”

Bruce’s voice is sullen when he answers. “No Tony. Not really. I’m already using your tech myself to scan the area and, like I said, there’s nothing here. Just sit tight and try to rest.”

Tony almost laughs and instead ends up making a choked sound. Bruce would say that, but he knows none of them would listen even if he truly meant his words and yet Tony appreciates the sentiment anyway. His body is still sore and now more than ever the lure of sleep is inviting; the better to forget, to pretend this isn’t happening.

“Can you send whatever useless “data” you have and the footage to Jarvis?”

“Of course,” Bruce replies ruefully before he hangs up.

Tony tries to maintain an appearance of calm as he sighs and stretches though a nervous sweat has broken out on his skin. Looking up from the floor, Tony meets Natasha's eyes and she frowns, but mirrors his actions with Clint quickly following suit. Only Steve lingers a few moments longer, looking faraway and weighed down by sadness, before he too rises from his chair with a halfhearted mask in place.

“How can we help you Tony?” Steve asks.

* * *

* * *

 

Heimdall completes many tasks for the Allfather, almost always without question because he’s loyal and that is his duty. And yet there are occasions, such as this, where he strongly disapproves of the Allfather’s decisions.

Heimdall gives a cursory look at his surroundings before casting a wayward glance at the sleeping form of Thor at his side. When the princes were young he had taken an interest in their lives, not just because one was to be king, but because he was genuinely fond of them. Though princelings no longer, Heimdall is still invested in them and subsequently he feels some burden of also caring for the interests they have now. So it seems then, the task of caring for these young and relatively naïve Midgardians has fallen onto him. The young souls so strongly love his prince and he too holds them so dear that it is not without regret that he has watched them suffer, especially the blond Captain, since Thor was injured. The Allfather’s decision to render Thor in a state of suspended animation to test if these avengers could withstand without Thor’s help was callous. For all the lessons he wished to teach Thor about humility and caring, he moved with swiftness to prove a point with no consideration for those involved. Of course, he knew his son would not return for good if the avengers would be in danger and while the idea to prove they would survive without him is sound in theory, the methods of execution are plagued by narcissism.

Heimdall was rightfully upset, but he said nothing as he knew Frigga had told him her thoroughly scathing thoughts on his actions. Even with her complaints however, he would not budge and if he would not for her then he would do so for no one so Heimdall held his tongue. He would have continued to do so if not for the change in the situation.  About a week ago, upon the completion of a debriefing of the proceedings in the kingdom, Odin had inquired as to the state of the avengers. When Heimdall remained silent Odin looked briefly concerned.

“What has happened?” he questioned and not for the first time he spoke to his king without reservations.

“The mortals are compromised. A man saw fit to expose Thor’s condition and now they are being plagued by villains. They are nearing complete exhaustion and if the pace continues one will be killed. If this were to happen Thor will certainly never forgive you for it as he will already be angry enough as it is.” The sour look upon the Allfather’s face at the end of Heimdall’s speech was enough to make any other subordinate flinch but the gatekeeper’s gaze didn’t waver.

Though the king hadn’t been happy with Heimdall’s tone, he did make an effort to correct his mistake by sending Heimdall to spirit Thor away back to Asgard so he could awaken him. If he didn’t insist upon the secrecy of the deed it would almost help him forgive the initial spell put upon the prince, but alas, he has taken Thor without the mortals’ knowledge and now they are panicking. Heimdall can hear the distress in their voices and he knows if he is to turn his sight towards them, their faces will be lined with tension.

As neither the Allfather nor anyone else in Asgard possesses Heimdall’s skills (without the aid of the enchanted mirrors which costs much in energy, though Heimdall doesn’t doubt he would use them anyway to make sure of his loyalty), and yet Odin insisted he be the one to complete the deed, the Asgardian was given a 15 hour time frame to extract Thor and be back at the point of transport. If he did not return when they called for him after the allotted time Odin himself would come (again, the first time was to keep Thor asleep), but his tone suggested that it would end poorly if he did.

Looking back on it, perhaps the time frame could have been reduced as it had only taken him just over four hours to extract the prince which has left him with little more to do than watch the sun’s position change throughout the day and the avengers get increasingly agitated. Luckily, dusk is approaching now and the colors in the sky are beautiful. Even so, Heimdall can’t resist another glance at the prone form beside him and he almost chokes when he finds blue eyes looking back at him. It occurs to him, in between his confusion, that Odin said he would have to redo the spell at some point because although Thor has not honed his magical abilities, he has a remarkable resistance and ability to fight magic off.

“Heimdall,” Thor rasps. His voice is deep and scratchy from disuse so he clears his throat and tries again. “Heimdall, my friend, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

When Heimdall says nothing and only continues to stare at the prince in both wonder and concern, Thor sits up slowly and takes in the scenery around him as if he’s just realized how out of sorts the situation is. “Where are we?”

“I am to take you home.”

Thor’s brow furrows. “But why? What of the avengers?” Like a sudden flash of lighting, panic flares in his eyes and Heimdall gives into the urge to place a placating hand on his shoulder.

“They are well, Thor. Do not worry.”

Thor sags in relief but the need to question is still written on his face. “What happened? I remember being injured and then passing out but nothing more. What has happened since then?”

Heimdall pauses to choose his next words carefully. “You have been asleep,” he says finally.

Thor cocks his head and blinks. “For how long?”

“A month, a week and two days.” Thor’s eyes widen and he just gapes at Heimdall until recognition hits and his face darkens. Much too suddenly Heimdall can taste ozone in the air; a manifestation of Thor’s power. “What has he done?” he demands, voice hard.

“Thor—“

“What has the Allfather done?!” he growls as little bolts of electricity skip over his arms and patches of dark clouds condense overhead. Even he sometimes forgets Thor’s raw power when he so often relies on Mjolnir to contain and wield it.

“You were injured and Odin thought it…prudent to assess the ability of you companions to protect Midgard with their own powers. In the end the King merely prolonged your recovery time.”

Thor, to his credit, doesn’t burst into a rage. Instead, he only digs his fingers into the dirt beside him as a crack of lightning steaks through the mostly blue sky.

Tense silence hangs over the pair before Heimdall breaks it. “Thor.”

The prince breathes heavily out of his nose. “I do not have the words to properly express myself at the moment,” he says as his voice shakes with the act of containing his anger. “But as the avengers are unhurt?” The familiar lilt of a question colors his tone, “then I shall talk to the Allfather in my own due course.”

Heimdall nods. “As of yet they are unhurt.”

Thor frowns and opens his mouth as if to ask if there is more to it but instead changes course. “Where is Mjolnir?” Considering his request Heimdall turns his head and looks to Avenger Tower. Scouring the area he looks for this target. “It is where it was when you fainted. No one has attempted to move it.”

Thor nods and looks thoughtful. “I will have to break the window then,” he affirms and the Asgardian calls him weapon to him. Heimdall watches as it smashes through the window overlooking another building instead of the street below before it arcs high and fast over the city as it barrels toward them.  Despite the hammer’s loud exit, the avengers only pause their conversation with strange looks upon their faces before launching back into it, none the wiser of the hammer’s disappearance.

Only a minute or two passes before the weapon lands squarely in Thor’s outstretched hand and he sighs on contact as if the weapon has soothed him somehow.

“Thank you, my friend, for being more honest with me than you may have been and though I wish to cause you no trouble, I cannot return with you.”

Heimdall snorts lightly and then smiles at him, an expression which Thor gladly returns. “I did not think you were.” He gives Thor’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “Go to your Midgardians. They are quite distressed.”

With a small smirk and an incline of his head Thor takes off toward his new home leaving Heimdall alone and yet perfectly content to wait.

* * *

 

“Welcome b—“ Odin stops midword. “Where is my son, Heimdall?”

 “Your son awoke on his own and refused to return with me,” he relates and though he tries, he cannot quite keep the traces of his amusement from his face.

In true fashion Odin scowls at him before muttering, turning on his heel, and stalking back the way he came. More than anyone he is all too aware of his son’s stubbornness and it would cause nothing but trouble to pursue him now.

With the King fading from view Heimdall turns his gaze back on Midgard and smiles.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter finally! Sorry for being so slow.
> 
>  
> 
> As always I have no beta but I hope you enjoy the end anyway.

Thor lands with a little stutter step. Wielding the hammer had filled him with renewed energy but he did feel mildly weak, despite his body have maintained itself decently.

“Master Thor.”

The voice startles him. He had forgotten the AI’s reach now extended to the roof.

“Hello Jarvis.” There is pause and though he was told the AI cannot think in the same way a Midgardian can, it seems, to Thor at least, as if he is considering his next words carefully.

“Would you like me to alert the others to your presence?”

“No.” Thor takes a calming breath. “No, I would like to do it.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Thor wastes no time after the AI’s words to start making his way downstairs to the lab. Upon opening the fire door to the lab hallway, Thor immediately hears the voices of the others mid argument, making him clench his jaw. The avengers were prone to bickering, but very rarely did they ever have full blown arguments anymore like the one he is hearing now and this greatly concerns the Aesir.

Hearing them makes Thor hesitate, back to the closed door. After all that has transpired and the unintentional stress and harm he has caused, hello seems so trivial a greeting. Thor shakes his head. What is needed will come to him he’s sure, so he crosses the remaining distance to the light coming from the open doorway up ahead.

When he enters Thor blinks hard a few times with a strong sense of déjà vu. Not too much more than 12 months ago the so named General Ross had made his bid to contain Bruce and the Hulk once again and the avengers had been furious. At the time Thor could barely find the wherewithal to contain his rage and not cast a horrific storm upon the city and the other avengers had fared no better. Stress about another avenger suited them ill as they fought while still continuing to struggle to find and recue Bruce. However, upon the discovery of his whereabouts, they struck with a calm cleverly executed force. Even now Thor refuses to be ashamed for destroying the building in its entirety and striking fear into their hearts though he did not harm not one of them.

For all that had happened with Bruce, its all too easy watching them now to be reminded of those two days. Natasha and Tony are snarling pushed into each other’s space while Bruce argues, voice pitched low, close to and yet maintaining his distance from the pair. Clint, face twisted into a sneer, is perched upon an empty lab table and Steve…Thor blinks hard. Steve who had been a picture of calm fury during Bruce’s disappearance, is moving in on Natasha and Tony, practically growling and jabbing his finger at Stark who whips around and issues a snappy retort while pointing at his hologram.

Thor’s stomach rolls with anxiety. He’s never seen the Captain act on his rage so fully. He has always kept his cool, like the natural born leader he is and it shakes Thor to the core to see him so outright aggressive.

Clint rolls his eyes and goes to respond to Tony, but Thor sees the exact moment the archer spots him; his face goes perfectly blank. Natasha, ever in tune with her partner, cranes her head to look at the door and too freezes. Her sudden movement triggers the others and Thor quickly has all eyes on him, a whole host of different emotions clear on their faces.

Thor half smiles at them. “Hello.” And it is exactly what he did not wish to say. It is not eloquent nor does it sum up his feelings, but it is all that he can fathom for some reason.

When a moment of tense silence passes between them Thor is convinced he will have to speak again but Clint beats him to it.

“How nice of you to show up.” Thor chuckles, more for their sakes than the actual humor in the statement because for all his attempt at nonchalance there is in obvious tremor in his voice.

Tony huffs at Clint’s attempt at levity. “Are you serious? You just waltz in looking fresh as a drop of dew in the morning? Ridiculous.” And Thor truly chuckles this time. Leave it to Tony.

Humor. Sarcasm. Thor expected this reaction to his return. For all the enjoyment Thor receives from physical affection, the avengers do not seem to. Thor respected their boundaries once he knew them, but it did give him a certain joy to know that the others accommodated him too; they were more physically playful with him than towards one another. Even so, Thor does not expect an embrace or a feast in his honor but the sudden arms around his torso prove him wrong.

Looking down tentatively he sighs at the sight of Natasha’s red hair shining in stark contrast to his pale green t-shirt and he gives her a light squeeze with affection clear on his face. Turning her head, she rests her forehead against the expanse of his chest and whispers so only he can hear. “Don’t ever do that again or I’ll have to finish what they started.” Thor snorts lightly, but he hugs her tightly before she pulls away, some of her hair lingering on his fingers as she goes. No sooner does she move away do the others move in to embrace him as well. 

It seems no matter how long he has been on Midgard, they always still find ways to surprise him. And yet, despite the enthusiasm, Thor cannot prevent the sting at Steve’s refusal to hug him too.

* * *

 

“This is not necessary, my friends,” he assures. “I know you have had a trying week and you look weary.”

As soon as they finished hugging Tony insisted that they celebrate and had pushed him out the door. By the time they had reached the lounge, Tony had given him a basic rundown of the last week and Thor could not comprehend how they were still standing.

“I resent that. I’m a picture of health,” Natasha quips as she hops onto the counter and Thor regards her for a moment. Certainly out of anyone she looks the most healthy, but she’s not fooling anyone as Clint smacks her arm and leans lazily next to her.

“Bullshit,” Clint corrects and cuts himself a piece of cheese from the block he had pulled from the refrigerator. 

“Champagne!” Tony exclaims as he emerges from around the corner.

“I must insist that we—“

“Celebrate. You’re not dead and you’re here. Don’t mother hen us for five minutes and let us enjoy it,” Bruce commands but Thor frowns. The colloquium confuses him but nonetheless the meaning is clear.

“Yeah, so sit down, shut up, and bask in our happy, our soon to be exuberant,” Tony explains as he fills the glasses. “We’re having waffles.”

“And cheese,” Clint interjects.

“Cheese?”

“Waffles _and_ cheese.”

“That does not sound…” Thor starts to say, but Clint’s glare silences him as he watches the archer pop another slice into his mouth.

Giving in to their demands, Thor settles onto a stool as they fall back into their routine as if the last month had been perfectly normal.  Distantly he knows it would be remiss to assume he will not be reprimanded as he should be, but for now it is enjoyable to spend time in their company.

 And yet there’s Steve.

 He is relatively quiet, responding when prompted but barely acknowledging Thor at all, and not for the first time the Asgardian wishes it did not disappoint him more than it would have if any of the others had not been so enthused to see him.

The Captain had made it known that Thor’s subtle advances were not appreciated in the past, he out of all of them enjoying Thor’s touch the least except for in peculiar moments. (One instance of this exception had been on New Year’s Eve with tension running high between them because of an argument between Steve, Tony and Clint earlier in the day. At the stroke of midnight, confetti falling around him, Thor had watched with a heavy heart as the couples around him completed the midnight custom. Turning back to the refreshments table with a frown, Steve suddenly appeared out of nowhere and wrapped his arms around Thor before resting his forehead on his shoulder. Without thinking the god returned the gesture, pressing his face against the soft blond hair at the side of Steve’s head. It was in poor form of him to enjoy that hug so, but Steve so very rarely allowed such physical affection between them. In the end the embrace lasted longer than Thor thought was proper of them, but as Steve pulled away he whispered in his ear, “Happy New Year, Thor,” smiled at him and then disappeared into the crowd again. After that night Steve reacted especially poorly to Thor’s touch, as if he could barely stand it.)

Knowing this, he had not expected Steve’s embrace, but to be so thoroughly shunned still stung. Even the knowledge that the Captain’s icy demeanor is most likely just from upset at the actions that had led to this moment does not stop him from craving his attention as he glances at the soldier out of the corner of his eye. If it was within his power he would not be so thoroughly enamored with the Captain, but it was inevitable.

Despite his reservation Thor makes himself enjoy the easy banter between the others, now firmly positioned between Natasha and Clint at the island bench, as if they are protecting him, while Bruce, Tony and Steve prepare the waffles.

After gorging themselves, Thor was proud to have convinced them to settle and watch a movie. In the end they chose to watch The Green Mile and to no surprise, not even half way through, everyone’s even breathing comes as a balm to Thor’s ears.

When the movie ends some time later, Thor stands and stretches. He is awake, no sign of exhaustion in him as he goes to cover the avengers one by one with a blanket. He would carry them to their floors, as the couch is an inappropriate place to sleep, but the first time he had tried Clint had just missed stabbing him in the face by an inch.

Thor laughs to himself at the memory and at Tony. The inventor has the ability to sleep anywhere, in any position, and he had once again fallen asleep sitting up. Grabbing the fleece blanket, Thor tips him gently until he’s laying flat before placing it over his friend as he mumbles in his sleep. Moving on, Natasha is the last to be covered but as he tucks the plaid blanket around her form, he hears rustling and turns to see Steve slipping from the couch.

“Steve,” he calls softly, turning his body toward him mid crouch. Even in the dim lighting Thor can see the Captain’s shoulders tense at his voice but the man keeps on walking until he’s out of sight.

Thor casts his eyes to the floor, shoulders slumping slightly, but goes back to finish his task only to find Natasha peering at him through half lidded eyes.

“Sleep,” he whispers, carding a hand through her hair, momentarily forgetting himself. He used to do the same thing for Loki when he was younger after he had had a nightmare. Suddenly realizing his mistake he goes to pull his hand back but she sighs in protest so he keeps up with the motion.

“Go after him,” she mumbles and Thor knows she’s much more awake than she sounds.

“Natasha, he—“

“I know he’s a little…all over the place. It even took me a bit to figure him out, but you mean a lot to him in the ways the rest of us don’t.” Despite her placid face there’s strength in her voice.

“Natasha.” He shakes his head. “I do not…I do not wish to wreck the good faith between us, or whatever may be left of it.”

The assassin rolls her eyes at his denial. “He was, we _all_ were, worried. He may not be feeling particularly cuddly at the moment, but that doesn’t mean he’s not interested in the way that you are.” She snorts as she opens her eyes more fully to look at him with what can only be fond annoyance. “Why is it that I’m the love guru around here? Bruce and Tony, you and Steve, Phil and Clint. You all should throw me a party or at least pay me for my services.” She wiggles a bit as she settles back down. “Now go,” she commands and her tone indicates the conversation is over.

Thor rolls his eyes to the ceiling and huffs out a breath with smile on his face. Giving the blanket one last tuck, he smiles at her and goes in search of Steve as she dictated, trying to quell the rising hope in his chest as he walks.

The captain must not be trying to hide because he is on the roof, one of the two places he often retreats to when upset.

“I wish you didn’t follow me,” the man in front of him growls. His hands are flexing into fists as the muscles of his back jump with tension.

Thor doesn’t immediately respond. It is one step to have found him, but now that he has done so, he is unsure of how to approach this. Natasha’s judgments seldom prove wrong, but the Captain seems so on edge.

“You must have known I would or you would not have come here,” Thor responds. He doubts it’s what he has said but Steve whips around suddenly and stalks toward him, shoulders pulled up with a scowl on his face.

“We were so worried and then you just,” he scrubs a hand through his hair, “waltz in here after disappearing like it’s all okay. Why would you just leave like that?”

“I did not and would not. You must know that,” he answers.

“I know. I know.” Steve covers his face with his hands that are shaking slightly as if he’s trying to force back whatever emotions are bubbling to the surface. “Where did you…what happened?” he asks, voice muffled.

Though he had managed to maintain his calm until this point, this question makes Thor clench his jaw. “I truly do not wish to discuss it at the moment, but I will deal with it I assure you.”

Steve lifts his head at the words, face finally more relaxed, but with confusion written upon. Thor shakes his head and stares past Steve to the pool. “Sometimes choices are made for me though it was my own error that led me to this. I apologize, for many things as it were.”

Steve does not appear any measure of satisfied with the answer but he relents on that line of questioning.  When he turns his head to truly look at Thor, his eyes are alight with an emotion the Aesir cannot quite identity as Steve moves closer. Thor holds still at the approach, unsure of what to expect. Without warning Steve fists his hands into his shirt, but the pressure upon his chest is pushing him away; the actions entirely conflicting.

“I need you to not do that,” Steve mutters after a moment and it is clear he means his foolish actions from his last battle.

“I will not. I _am_ sorry.” Thor brings as much sincerity into the words as he can muster. In the silence following the exchange, wind ruffles their hair, and Thor calms himself, until it slows and dies out. It is now or never.

“Steve, I need to tell you—“

“Thor, no,” he interrupts and Thor’s face tries to twist at the hurt bubbling in his chest. Through sheer strength of will alone he looks away over Steve’s shoulder, pushes it down, and schools his features as best as he can manage. He will not say what does not want to be heard.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” Steve quickly corrects. With a short breath, the Aesir risks sweeping his gaze back to Steve’s face and the naked vulnerability he finds in the expression startles him.

“I just need to say it myself…I…care about you. Maybe more than I should,” he admits but as he does, the hands on his chest push him away.

Thor inhales deeply. Even with Steve’s obvious resistance, and against his better judgment, the admission makes Thor’s heart flutter in his chest, overwhelmed by how much he had wanted to hear something so simple. But he steadies himself by closing his eyes for a moment. Steve may be saying these words but his body, the strong pressure against his chest, is dictating something else entirely.

“You say this, but I feel your resistance. Do not utter phrases that you know would be for my benefit.” The pain that accompanies saying this almost causes Thor to wince but he would never force himself upon the Captain.

“I wouldn’t. You know that,” Steve says echoing his earlier words. He licks his lips and looks up to hold the Aesir’s gaze. “I’ll be honest. I’m frightening myself, this scares me.”

The admission makes Thor frown but there’s bravery in portraying such true feelings many tend to deny. There is courage in Steve, always, even when Thor cannot understand his trepidation.

“For all the people you have proved wrong because you have never believed them to be right, it is startling that you doubt yourself now. I do not see why. You are glorious.” Thor reaches out to touch his cheek but stops short. Despite his obvious feelings, he is not confident the soldier may welcome his touch, but Steve surprises him by leaning into his hand. Delighted at the sight Thor skims his thumb across his cheek and the man tilts his head more fully into the caress sighing softly and yet his eyes remain determined.

“It’s not the same as it was then. I’m not the same. I’ve barely spent time as this Steve, in this body, and I’m still learning myself. How can I be…” The man trails off but Thor waits for him to continue. “It’s that and,” he looks down quickly but when he looks back up his jaw is set. “I don’t want to be alone again and you disappeared so easily, right from under my nose.”

Thor’s eyes sting from the honesty and encircles Steve in his arms, resting his cheek on his hair. Though the man does not state himself plainly in some ways, the Asgardian knows him well enough to sense some of the hidden meaning in the words. “But you’re not alone. We may not be who you wish we were in moments, but we care for you all the same. And perhaps you are not as you once were, but not all change should be a burden and certainly not one you have to carry alone.”

“I know. I’m here now, aren’t I?” Steve murmurs into his shoulder and Thor chuckles quietly. “This new world snuck up on me, then you. By the time I knew where my feelings were I backpedaled. Then you were,” he stops abruptly and pulls back to gaze into Thor’s eyes. “That was stupid you know.”

Thor laughs. “I know,” he tells him with a smile, but the corners of his mouth pull down as he becomes serious. “I will not do that again, but no doubt you will not be letting this go so easily.”

“No,” Steve agrees and a strange look passes over his face that Thor cannot identify. As he watches him considering what to say, the soldier’s sudden sharp intake of breath startles the Asgardian. To his shock Steve is sliding his hand into his hair and pulling him a hair’s breadth from his lips. Thor waits, poised for the Captain to move, but it extends and feels as if he’s waiting for the ax to fall. Fit to burst from tension, Thor bites his lip, an action Steve must catch with his lashes almost flush against his cheeks because he makes a small noise and brings their lips together. Thor exhales shakily and cups the base of Steve’s skull, twining his fingers into his hair, but keeps the kiss tender; the act an expression of emotion between the two warriors. Just as Steve pulls away he gives in, allowing himself the freedom, and nips at Steve’s bottom lip. Thor has waited for this for eons it seems, and he relishes this closeness between them.

On a whim, he tilts his head and presses a feather light kiss to Steve’s jaw and bafflingly the soldier tenses. After so wonderful of an exchange between them, Thor cannot fathom the sudden change and melancholy that has appeared in Steve’s face when he opens his eyes.

“What troubles you?” he inquires, rubbing small circles into the constricted muscle underneath his fingertips.

“Even after…I can’t promise to give you, to be, what you’re looking for.”

Thor’s face softens and he grasps Steve’s chin in his fingers to place a gentle kiss on his lips. “I will gladly accept whatever you have to offer.”

* * *

 

Thor runs and hand through his hair when the bifrost deposits him on the roof of the tower. It had been an exhausting two weeks of politics and fighting and all he wishes to do is take a hot shower and curl into his bed. But he had made a promise and he wouldn’t break it now after having worked so hard to keep it.

The party is in full swing by the time he enters wearing a fitted red shirt and black slacks having found his armor tiresome after so many days. It is merely a small gathering of close friends to celebrate James’, Rhodey as the others call him, birthday.

Searching the room for Steve, he feels a slight pat on his back as Tony leans around his side and grins at him. “Looking for lover boy?” he teases and Thor arches his eyebrow at him. Before he can engage with a response, James appears behind Tony not a moment later, having disengaged from Pepper to lay two hands on Stark’s shoulders. “Ignore him. I’m glad you could actually make it and Steve is over there.” He jerks his chin toward the bar where Natasha is flipping bottles and making some strange drink for Clint as Steve looks on.

Thor smiles at him. “Happy birthday,” he says, a hint of gratitude in his voice. “I have left your gift on the designated table.” Perhaps it is rude but he leaves the man then because he must see Steve, touch him after so long of being apart. As he walks away Thor senses Tony’s pout as he whines, “Honeybear, you’re ruining all my fun.”

The moment Steve locks eyes with him a little spike of electricity flows through his body. By the gods he had missed him. Quickening his steps, the Captain meets him half way and hugs him close, burying his face in Thor’s neck. “I missed you,” Steve breathes against his skin and Thor holds him even tighter at the words; presses his lips to Steve’s forehead. “Not as dearly as I missed you I’m afraid.”

Thor loosens his hold when Steve squirms and the man disentangles himself just enough to kiss Thor fiercely.  Running his hands over his sides, he loses himself in the slide of Steve’s lips against his own. The taste of his skin is familiar after months together and their tongues entwine perfectly like they had been doing this their whole life.

Clint clears his throat rather loudly and the two blonds break apart albeit reluctantly. “I know you missed him, but what are we? Chopped liver?” he quips.

“Hardly,” he retorts, still holding Steve close. “Would you like a kiss for your jealousy, my friend?”

Clint rolls his eyes, but there’s undisguised affection in his face as Natasha waves at him. “Welcome back,” she says coolly, but she’s smirking too.

“I—oh. I do not wish to forget,” he says suddenly and releases Steve from his arms. Reaching into his pocket, he removes a small black pouch and walks closer to Natasha. “This is for you.” He empties the contents of the bag into his hand as the others look on.

Resting in his palm is a necklace with a simple black chain and a small pendant. With obvious curiosity Natasha hooks the jewelry onto her finger and touches the charm gently, inhaling sharply when she does so. Where it had been a flat black not a moment ago, it now glimmers with life; colors changing and rippling across its surface. “How” she asks and the naked wonder in her voice makes it all worth it.

“Self-contained magic of my design. For as long as I draw breath it will appear as such.”  The color in the object fades, only to return as if a storm is raging inside before it settles into a deep red.

“Thank you,” she responds and Thor beams at her, pleased with her acceptance of the gift.

Tony, who had squeezed in next to Thor when he presented his gift huffs at his side. “Fancy. Do we get anything? Or is it just a special day for Widow and Rhodey?”

Natasha half nods. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what’s the occasion?”

Thor smiles wider if that’s possible. “Payment,” he states simply and winks. Natasha looks at him blankly but soon makes the connection as she starts laughing.

Around him the others are completely perplexed, but Thor does not mind as he hugs Steve close once more. She may laugh but Steve is the best thing she could have ever given him.  


End file.
